


Starbound Blues, A Hiveswap Story

by TheDoomkitten



Category: Hiveswap, Homestuck, Snowbound Blood: A Vast Error Story, Vast Error
Genre: Alternian AU, Background Stelzias, Bitter Acquaintances To Friends, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Police Entrapment in Chapter Three, The Empire Sucks, space roadtrip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-16
Updated: 2019-08-30
Packaged: 2020-04-24 21:02:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19181323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDoomkitten/pseuds/TheDoomkitten
Summary: Your name is SECILY IOPARA, or, more formally, JUDGMENT CALIBURN. You are an ELITE FIELD LEGISLACERATOR, and you are feared across the vast expanse of the Alternian Empire as the DEADLIEST HUNTER OF CRIMINAL SCUM there is. Your public record of CRIME OBLITERATION is astounding, and only your most banal feats have been archived.And, unknown to you at this current point in time, it is time for you to take on an APPRENTICE to pass on the mantle of JUDGMENT to if you perish. The "or else" is implied.***Your name is TYZIAS ENTYKK, or, less formally, "THAT ONE TERRIFYING GIRL THAT PROBABLY TORTURES WIGGLERS IN HER BASEMENT OR SOMETHING." You aspire to be an ELITE DESK LEGISLACERATOR, and you are feared across the office due to the NUMBER OF RUMORS ABOUT YOURSELF THAT STARTED DUE TO YOUR CONSTANTLY-WEARY DEMEANOR. Your record of SEDITIOUS RESEARCH is astounding, and will GET YOU CULLED if anyone finds it, but you are an expert on covering your tracks and having some actual common fucking sense when it comes to these things.And, unknown to you at this current point in time, you are about to leave Alternia two sweeps early on a grand crime-obliterating adventure. The "or else" is implied.





	1. ACT I, Volume One: Lay the Sun to Rest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ACT I: Something Ominous About Beginnings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A good while ago, Kate Mitchell tweeted something about Secily Iopara teaching Tyzias Entykk how to fence. Several months of procrastination later, this fic happened. Whodathunk?

>Secily: Introspect

        You don't remember the last time you saw the sun set. For most planetbound trolls, it's an anchor, something to keep them grounded in a galaxy of rigidly maintained chaos. Even if the harsh twilight hues are nothing but a simulated lightshow in a remote station thousands of light-years away from the nearest star, trolls find comfort in it. But ever since you left Alternia, you've drifted away from both the original and the mimesis of a solar-bound circadian rhythm. You suppose it's another mark of your isolation from the rest of trollkind; the breed that emerges from a deep, internal disconnect instead of physical distance.  
        Marching to the tick of your own clock (and swimming in a mix of your own metaphors) is nothing compared to everything else that separates you from the rest of the Alternian Empire's general populace, though. Your name is Secily Iopara, and you bear the, in your opinion unnecessary, title of Judgment Caliburn. You belong to the Judgment Champions, an order with a ridiculously ostentatious name that belies the dead-serious competency of its members: thirteen elite legislacerators, either personally tutored by their predecessors or inducted through extraordinary service to the Empire. Both, in your case. You and your colleagues are gifted with certain privileges that the rest of the empire's population lacks, allowing you to dispense justice to even the most sly of rebels.  
        Regardless of the obligatory expository portion of your inner monologue, your earlier observation still stands. It's been a long, long time since you've seen the sun set. Or rise, for that matter. Which is what the star that AV322-B95C orbits is doing as you burst through a set of double doors onto a balcony overlooking the planet's shining glass sea. You're in hot pursuit of a thief that's been terrorizing relic collectors across the home cluster, swiping parts of what's apparently an ancient weapon belonging to the Judgment Champions with terrifying destructive potential. It was a big reveal when you finally put it all together. Mind-blowing, even. A key component of this particular narrative thread. A thread that you're literally cutting short right now, before it can reach its explosive climax.  
        The oliveblood burglar dangles the briefcase containing the weapon over the edge, a desperate rictus that only cornered criminals wear stretched across his face.

EHXTRA: don'T makE anotheR fuckinG movE, caliburN!!! oR i'LL

You toss your second-best saber to the thief. He snatches it out of the air, easy as breathing. Excellent reflexes. Good. This might actually be a challenge. You begin your speech, practiced hundreds, if not thousands of times. It's as part of the ritual as everything else.

CALIBURN: 15.Qh6+ It's not a trick. You know that. I'm sure all your ilk has heard of me. ...Kb5  
CALIBURN: 16.a4 Sometimes I get asked why I do this. ...Kb4  
CALIBURN: 17.c3+ There’s three reasons. Here’s the first: it’s only fair. Face to face, blade to blade, an honest chance. You deserve that. Everyone deserves that. If you die, you die with...  


He doesn't let you finish. Snarling like a feral purrbeast, he captchalogues the briefcase and charges you with impressive speed. Not as fast as you, of course, but still noteworthy.

EHXTRA: diE!!!  
CALIBURN: 18.Qc6+ Let's begin, then. _Allez_! ...Kb2

He's clearly been trained on daggerkind, not bladekind. The quick, vicious swipes, the twitch in his wrist like he's about to switch to a reverse grip, the short jabs that fail to account for the range of a proper saber... The only thing keeping this scum alive is his speed. He's fast enough to react to your slightest movement, jerking out of the way of your weapon a split second before it would've landed, darting under your guard and forcing you to react before you can land a decisive blow... Even his footwork, as sloppy as it is, can keep pace with your own carefully-regimented steps. But being twitchy is as much as a weakness as it is a strength. After the initial flurry of parries and ripostes, you stomp forward in an appel, startling him. While he's still reacting to that, you slam your left hand into the wrist of his sword arm, forcing the specibus from his grip. Then you grab the still-falling saber and stab it through his throat. He releases a wet, gurgling rattle, reaching for your face with sharpened claws. Impressive fighting spirit. Pity he didn't find a constructive use for it. That happens to far too many trolls these days.  
       The not finding a good use for their fighting spirit part, not the getting stabbed through the throat part. Although that happens plenty too.

SECILY: 19.Qb6+ The second reason I’m doing this is the one I need you to hear. It’s the important one. If there’s anything, anything out there for your soul after this, if you meet any kind of maker or can see any shred of any of the dead, I need you to carry a message for me. ...Kc1  
SECILY: 20.Qb1+ Tell them this is for Ahlina Robiad. I will send them as many as they need to avenge her. ...Kd2

He spits olive blood in your face. You don't flinch.

SECILY: 21.Ng3 And if you see her, tell her I’m sorry. ...Ke3.  
SECILY: 22.Rb2 I can’t join her just yet. ...Ba8

You twist, pull, and slice. His head comes clean off. Whatever logic holds his sylladex together falls apart with his death, spilling its contents—including the briefcase—across the balcony floor. You captchalogue the weapon before it can slide off the glass and into the roiling sea.

23.Qb3++ The third reason is tha-  


Right before you can finish your monologue, you receive a call from your superior: Judgment Thirteen. While the violetblood isn't part of the Judgment Champions' field operations, he's directed the organization ever since his ancestor died. You helped him, and his "moirail" by extension, ease into their new positions. And despite your efforts, they've managed to carve out a soft spot in your bloodpusher. You begin cleaning your blade as you take the call.

THIRTEEN: ∞i apologize if i'm interrupting you in the middle of something important, caliburn, but we must discuss your next assignment.

You glance at the decapitated corpse and suppress a surge of irrational disappointment.

CALIBURN: 1.b4 You actually have perfect timing, sir. I've just recovered the last Judgment Cube piece. ...h5  
THIRTEEN: ∞excellent. keep it in your sylladex; you're better than any security system in the galaxy.  
THIRTEEN: ∞now, about your new case.  
THIRTEEN: ∞a number of troubling incidents have been reported on the station KV612-FF, beginning sixty-nine hours ago.  
THIRTEEN: ∞high-level psions have assaulted several datacenters crucial to imperial infrastructure in that sector. that wouldn't be an issue on its own, but...  
THIRTEEN: ∞the psions in question were in a berserk rage at the times of the attacks and were unable to be reasoned with.  
THIRTEEN: ∞then they exploded. literally.

You frown deepens, your handkerchief stopping midway down your saber. While psizerker drugs aren't unheard of—the less dangerous and more potent ones are mandated by the Empire on certain fronts of the war—you can't recall anything that would cause an actual explosion, even in the most unstable of psions. Considering that you can perfectly remember the names and effects of every illicit pharmaceutical you've come across over the course of the thousands of drug busts you've performed in your long, long history as a legislacerator, that's rather unusual.

THIRTEEN: ∞even more troubling is what was discovered after local authorities managed to identify the remains of the terrorists.  
THIRTEEN: ∞each of the perpetrators were of mediocre psionic ability at best before the attack. most of them barely had enough power to bend a spoon.  
CALIBURN: 2.a4 Even the psiboosters available on the black market can't empower psions as weak as that to such heights. Unless... ...Rh6

You come to the chilling realization seconds before Thirteen says it himself.

THIRTEEN: ∞we believe that somebody has been smuggling at least cyclops-class psiengine enhancers onto KV612-FF and is using them to conduct these attacks.  
CALIBURN: 3.Ra2 Which means that an Empire official is complicit. Nobody without proper access could've gotten their hands on enhancers that powerful. ...Ra6.  
THIRTEEN: ∞precisely. this is a matter of grave empire security, judgment caliburn. even disregarding the threat of a traitor that high in the hierarchy, the kv sector will plunge into anarchy if these attacks continue.  
THIRTEEN: ∞and with how important kv is to maintaining steady transportation from the home sectors to the front, it's possible the rest of the empire will follow.  
THIRTEEN: ∞we cannot allow this to happen.  
CALIBURN: 4.Ba3 Understood. Send me a list of every troll with access to psiengine enhancers in KV612. If the attacks are as recent as you say, it's unlikely that the mastermind has escaped the system yet. ...Nf6  
CALIBURN: 5.Nc3 I'll also need a map of when and where the attacks were conducted on the station, in addition to an accounting of the collateral damage from the explosions. It's possible that targeting the datacenters was just a tactical distraction. ...Nd5

Or a distaction. You keep that one in mind to use later.

THIRTEEN: ∞there is one more urgent matter that we need to discuss.  
SESTRO: ∞secily.

You freeze. It's been sweeps since you've heard anyone say your real name, let alone Thirteen—no, Sestro—stickler for rules that he is. He's obviously trying to throw you off balance, and you admit that it worked, but he wouldn't think of a tactic like this by himself. Whatever Sestro's about to say next, it's obvious that the Hexatrix, Hamifi, will be the one who's really doing the talking. You wouldn't be surprised if she's telling him what to say over a different connection; he wouldn't have the gall to break protocol in a professional context like this otherwise.

SESTRO: ∞we must discuss the matter of your current apprentice.  
SESTRO: ∞or rather, your lack of one.

Damn it. You should've seen this one coming. It's been too long since Hamifi badgered you about this.

SECILY: 6.Nf3 I don't see what that has to do with my current assignment. ...Nxc3  
SESTRO: ∞on the contrary, it has everything to do with it. the fastest route to kv612-ff from your current location is through the alternian solar system. now would be the optimal time to choose someone to tutor.  
SECILY: 7.dxc3 I understand your reasoning as well as the concern behind it, but bringing on an apprentice during an assignment as important and dangerous as this one seems foolhardy. ...Rxa4  
SESTRO: ∞you're a judgment. every assignment you undertake is important and dangerous.  
SESTRO: ∞may i remind you that your inexperience didn't stop your predecessor from taking you on during what remains to this day one of the most crucial mission to the integrity of the empire, nor did your inexperience stop you from completing said mission when he died?  
SESTRO: ∞which brings us to why i am putting my foot down and making you find somebody to train.  
SESTRO: ∞secily, you are the most talented legislacerator this empire has seen in millions of sweeps. maybe even the most talented over the entire breadth of its history.  
SESTRO: ∞this isn't an issue of succession. i wouldn't be surprised if you could force the handmaid herself to back off from reaping your soul with just a glare.  
SESTRO: ∞it's that the empire needs more trolls like you. and you're the only legislacerator alive that can make that happen.  
SECILY: 8.Ng5 Sestro, I  
SESTRO: ∞you are finding an apprentice. that is an order. and before you try to buy time by saying you need someone more experienced, stop. we both know that your methods are incomprehensible to somebody that doesn't think like you from the start of their career. i know they are for me, at least.  
SESTRO: ∞i've sent you the profiles of the top scorers on the legislaceration aptitude tests on alternia and several other candidates that my moirail's personally scouted, in addition to the information you need for your current case. pick any who seem promising, and start conducting interviews once you reach alternia.  
SESTRO: ∞for good.

He disconnects before you can retort. Sighing, you store your saber in your strife portfolio and captchalogue the handkerchief before strolling to the edge of the balcony, facing the glass sea. The paradoxically chill wind makes your cape flutter in the breeze. It's the perfect atmosphere for an introspective monologue.  
        You can see why somebody would build their off-duty hive here, despite the incredible danger that the molten ocean poses. The view as the sun crests over the horizon is stunning, a vista of bright hues passionately dancing across and beneath the translucent ocean like a ballroom packed full of careless young lovers. Maybe that's why you're so thoroughly unmoved by the sight.  
        Saying that you've always been a loner is inaccurate, but you've adapted to loneliness. It's been your companion, one way or another, your entire life. Absence is a better partner than any troll could possibly be. It hones every sense, sharpens your mind. The atmosphere of expectancy, of potential, of nothing, pervades every facet of your life, challenging you to... not fill it, per se, but to satisfy it, to prove something to yourself.  
        Every time that you try to explain it to another troll, you sound completely fucking insane, and you have to admit that it seems strange even to you when you put it into words. But what works, works. And what doesn't has no place in a profession as fraught as yours. If somebody disrupts your personal void, the absence that has helped you so much in your career... it could throw you completely off your game. Which, as you've already made clear, is dangerous in your business.  
        But an order's an order. Even somebody with your status would be culled if they disobeyed direct instructions from a violet. Ignoring the feeling of something sour churning in your stomach, you call your ship and have a nice, satisfying brood as you wait for it to arrive.

>Secily: Read.

Most trolls fail to grasp just how _big_ space is until they get shipped off Alternia. The sheer scale of it is biologically impossible for most to comprehend, and even those who can do it often prefer to get stoned instead. But it at least partially sinks in once you spend several days going at speeds several hundred times faster than light and you're still at least a wice away from your destination that's just a few systems over.  
        The majority of the troll population is concentrated just a few solar systems away from Alternia. Anything more than that, and maintaining an empire just becomes impractical without the use of psiengine-powered ships, which are for the exclusive use of traveling to the front. Colonies are established once a rival empire's been conquered, of course; it's considered your "reward" for surviving a campaign. But that's just a small fraction of the countless number of trolls that inhabit the galaxy. Many spend their entire lives living in the home cluster, never seeing battle. Travel between systems in the home cluster can take wices, even perigees, depending on your position relative to refuel stations.  
        You've been spending your own interminable journey in what essentially amounts to a cockpit with a life support system strapped to a high-power engine. It's small, it's fast, and it's comfortable (at least for you, you've been informed on several occasions that you must be completely insane to go on prolonged journeys inside it). And importantly, it's got quantumnet, letting you connect to the galactic network and monitor the situation on KV612-FF. A few more attacks of the same nature have occurred on the station, but thankfully, nothing on the same level of destruction has occurred. Yet. Since most of the sites that have been targeted have weathered all the assaults so far, you suspect that whoever's behind these incidents is planning something big and is using these smaller attacks as an uncomfortably literal smokescreen.  
        You've used most of your plethora of time reading through the profiles of all the trolls on the long, long list that Judgment Thirteen and presumably the Hexatrix sent you. None of the potential candidates have stood out to you so far, and you're more than two-thirds of the way through. You're starting to consider the possibility that you're going to have to take on a mediocre wiggler who has no idea what they're doing and is going to get themself killed. You feel a pang in your bloodpusher at the possibility, and push through to the next candidate with renewed ferocity.  
        As if the Khondesce herself is answering your prayers, even though she has zero business hearing them (let alone deigning to grant them), the next candidate raises one of your eyebrows: Tyzias Entykk. Two sweeps younger than most of the trolls on this list, but you can see why the Hexatrix picked her specifically. She's repeatedly aced deductive reasoning tests, apparently knows the law inside and out, puts in far more work than the rest of her colleagues according to an informant inside her office, and... has less-than-mediocre physical aptitude scores. Shaking your head, you decide to read her essays anyways. Might as well be thorough. After all, a veritable army of time is facing you down on this trip; you need to keep making temporal corpses.  
       All of Tyzias's work is excellent, of course. Otherwise the Hexatrix-by-proxy-of-Thirteen never would've recommended her to you. But something you can't quite place bugs you about it. There's a thread, a theme linking all the essays and presentations that you can't quite put your finger on, and it piques your suspicion. And, sure enough, a diegetic Investigation Progress Bar pops up in the periphery of your vision. You spend a blur of hours poring over her essays until you finally find the smoking kinetic payload deliverer you're looking for: a quote from Neophyte Redglare. Sourcing a rookie legislacerator who died after completing her first mission would be strange enough, but to you it raises a candy-red flag. Redglare's notorious among those in the know for disseminating the Signless's texts thousands of years after the cult was supposedly eradicated. Could it be...? Now that you have an idea of what you're looking for, more evidence mounts: obscure laws that nobody who isn't looking for ancient texts specifically would find, anti-Khondesce subtext that's so subtle you have to wonder if you're imagining it, and even a paper with a character count of 696969.  
        Most trolls wouldn't even know to look for this stuff, primarily because knowing what to look for would mean that they're a prime target for getting culled with extreme prejudice. However, as a Judgment Champion, you have access to secret histories and forbidden information so you can catch trolls like Tyzias. Trolls who found secrets so ancient and so treasonous that even one troll outside the fold knowing them is liable to cause another revolution without the guiding hand of the Khondesce to limit its psychological toll on your obedience. (At least that's what you were told. You've always believed it was a bunch of hornbeastshit.) It's your duty to cull trolls like this... like this wiggler. You should send the order to the drones right now.  
        But...  
        But.  
        Breathless, you lean back in your seat and pinch the bridge of your nose. Under normal circumstances, any sign of Signless cult activity is enough to torch an entire subgrub. But Sestro holds his Judgment Champions up to a higher standard than culling potential innocents without any hard evidence. _You_ hold yourself to a higher standard than that. You doubt that it's coincidence, but stranger things have happened in a universe as big as this one, and you don't have anything that irrefutably condemns her. And more importantly, something deep in your pumpbiscuit throbs with agony at the prospect of culling, no, _murdering_ a wiggler. You don't know much about Tyzias—the profile only details her academic history, nothing personal—but she's still a solid two sweeps younger than the age when she'd be shipped offplanet. No matter how you rationalize it, killing a troll who's a grub compared to you just doesn't sit right.  
        It would also be a crime to deprive the empire of such talent considering the brilliance on display in her work. She could do real good as a legislacerator, albeit not the kind of good she may want to do. Yet... she could still be dangerous. Really, truly dangerous. Minds daring enough to investigate revolutionary doctrine despite the risks are the minds that could put it to devastating use. If you let her off and she turns up a few sweeps down the line at the head of another rebellion, you would be the one to blame. You can't let that happen either. You need to investigate this Tyzias further before you can deliver a sound judgment. And the perfect opportunity to do that would be—  
         _Ding._ The progress bar reaches 100%. You have your apprentice  


>Secily: Be the other girl.

Your name is Tyzias Entykk, and you have the feeling it's going to be a very bad night.


	2. ACT I, Volume Two: Starlight, Moon Bright

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ACT I: Something Ominous About Beginnings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huh. Another chapter. I really didn't think I'd get this far. Here, have a nice dose of teal shenanigans. You're not going to get more of that for a good, long while.

>Tyzias: Get a move on.

        Sheesh, you’re trying. You're just sluggish this early in the night. You need a nice, refreshing cup of water each sunset before you’re fully awake.  
        As you’ve already established, your name is Tyzias Entykk, and you have a feeling it’s going to be a very bad night. Every night is a bad night, of course. That's how it be on this bitch of an Alternia. But something deep in your acid tubes tells you that this eve in particular is going to suck a giant, heaving bulge, even compared to the general shittiness of Alterniabound life. Maybe it's the way that the wind is carrying smoke from a few neighborhoods away to the hive, bringing with it the odor of burnt lowblood corpses. Maybe it's because the Heiress has been feeling particularly authoritarian lately and the increased surveillance is making you more paranoid than usual. Or perhaps it's that you're awake at a completely fucking unreasonable hour of the evening because your matesprit forgot to turn off her alarm when you slept over at her hive and you've got to deal with debating Sore-Gor in two hours. Or all of those things. Yeah, that sounds abpit right.  
        But you have to admit that there are some perks to waking up this early, even if you're getting a scent nozzle full of charred rustblood. Your face spasms into something that resembles a real smile (not one of your trademark half-grimaces or sarcastic smirks, an actual _smile_ ) as you watch Stelsa hustle and bustle around her hive, somehow fully dressed while you’re still lounging around in boxers and an unbuttoned shirt. You actually feel a bit more energized as you watch Stelsa apply her makeup with practiced speed. Yawning, you down the last of your water and shuffle over to your matesprit. Then you kiss her right before she can apply her lipstick. Stelsa gasps, giggles, then smooches you back.  
        Fuck, you love her so much.

STELSA: ZIZI I LOVE YOU BUT DEAR PLEASE COULD YOU TRY USING SOME LIQUID DENTAL STENCH ANNIHILATOR BEFORE YOU KISS ME IN THE EVENING  
STELSA: YOUR BREATH IS COMPLETELY ATROCIOUS I KNOW YOURE UNWILLING TO COMPROMISE ON SWITCHING TO FLAVORED FANG SHINE FOR SOME STRANGE REASON SO PLEASE WORK WITH ME ON THIS  
TYZIAS: stels you knowwww i barely have enough timmmme to put mmmmy socks on before i have to run to catch the public scuttlebeetle mmmmost mmmmornings  
TYZIAS: i literally put mmmmy sandals on as i sprint to the station  
TYZIAS: there's no wwwway i can fit another step into mmmmy evening routine wwwwhen i'm eating dinner while applying armmmmcranny deodorizer, scrubbing mmmmy fangs, and putting on clothes all at the sammmme timmmme in the five-mmmminute interval betwwwween wwwwhen i get up and wwwwhen the 'beetle leaves  
TYZIAS: it’s already a huge fucking scene i don’t need to add another bludgeoner to juggle on top of that  
TYZIAS: and i mmmmaintain that wwwwhatever twwwwisted reagents they put into flavored fang shine is anathemmmma to all that is good in this universe  
TYZIAS: i knowwww i swwwwitched to the unflavored brand to save on caegars when i totaled sore-gor's lusus habitat for the fourth timmmme, but after perigees of using it, going back to the "normal" stuff awwwwoke me to the evils of the flavored fang shine  
TYZIAS: that shit scalded my entire mawwww it's a conspiracy stels i'mmmm telling you

Stelsa pouts, sniffing in theatrical disgust.

STELSA: DISREGARDING YOUR COMPLETELY IRRATIONAL PARANOIA ABOUT COOL TONGUEBITE FLAVOR FANG SHINE SINCE I DONT KNOW WHERE TO START WITH THAT  
STELSA: USING LIQUID DENTAL STENCH ANNIHILATOR TAKES TWENTY SECONDS IM FAIRLY CERTAIN EVEN YOU COULD FIND TIME TO DO IT ESPECIALLY IF YOU'RE SLEEPING OVER HERE  
STELSA: AND DONT GET ME STARTED ON HOW THIS WHOLE DILEMMA OF YOURS COULD BE SOLVED IF YOU TRIED TO WAKE UP JUST FIFTEEN MINUTES EARLIER!  
TYZIAS: look, i learned from mmmmy lusus  
TYZIAS: it’s immmmpossible to wwwwake mmmme up wwwwhen i wwwwant to keep catching those precious zs  
TYZIAS: tbh i think it's a mmmmiracle that i’mmmm able to mmmmake it to wwwwork on timmmme at all  
STELSA: THEN HOW COME IM ABLE TO DRAG YOU OUT OF THE RECUPERACOON AN HOUR AHEAD OF YOUR REGULAR SCHEDULE HMMMM

You flash her a lazy, toothy grin, packing as much adoration as you can into it. Which is a whole lot. Most would see the expression as sardonic—you have one of those faces, apparently—but Stelsa knows you well enough to understand that you're trying to convey truckloads of sheer, unbridled affection through it. You hope so, at least.

TYZIAS: c'mmmmon. you knowwww wwwwhy

You nuzzle each other at the horns. She laughs again. You love her laugh. Lots of trolls find it annoying; too high, too shrill, too long, filled with snorts. But you adore it. It's so honest. So unafraid to be itself, no matter what anybody else might think. You need more of that kind of attitude in your life. You share another kiss that you'd rather keep the details of hidden from the omniscient narrator, then return to your respective morning routines. While you hunt down your clothes in the aftermath of last night's pailing, Stelsa whips up a homemade dinner, a luxury that you usually can't afford. (You gobble your portion up like a starving musclebeast while Stelsa watches both fondly and bemusedly.)  
        You part ways when the sun dips below the horizon, hustling to your respective commutes. Unfortunately, Stelsa's line of workstudy is a far different discipline from your own, with an office on the other end of town. Your paths don't cross often during the night. That's why you treasure rare evenings like these, and the mornings that precede them. A ghost of a smile remains on your face as you race the public scuttlebeetle to the station.

>Tyzias: Curb your enthusiasm.

Your enthusiasm is successfully curbed as soon as you step onto the 'beetle. It's cramped full of trolls with places to be and no caegars to get there; mostly lowbloods with the occasional streak of olive showing up in the crowd. You could definitely afford a personal scuttlebuggy if you wanted to, but you take the beetle to work anyways. It helps remind you of what you're fighting for. Even if the 'beetle objectively sucks on every conceivable level. It smells terrible in a new way every night, you barely have enough room to stand, the brain of the insect doesn't seem to be aware there are people inside of it, and you always get glared at by most of the other trolls riding it. Not that you blame them. You look out of place, no matter how scruffy you are in the morning. Most of the clothes you wear are illegal for rustbloods to think about owning. At least the regulars have gotten used to your presence. Some give you curt nods as you board. There. Progress.

>Tyzias: Curb your enthusiasm further.

The ride is unremarkable. You wouldn't say boring, though. At least one fistfight breaks out every night on your commute, and, true to form, two olivebloods nearly beat each other to death on the scuttlebeetle while you did your best to try to make yourself as inconspicuous as possible. They were still going at it when you got off. All par for the course on public transportation, unfortunately.  
        The rest of your good mood completely evaporates when you enter the office. You have to give it a hand, the echoes of domestic euphoria from your evening (and morning) with Stelsa were pretty tenacious. But as soon as you see Tegiri threatening a hapless six-sweeper with a sword, Tirona casually browsing through Tagora's Grype account, and Tagora nailing a bill to Tegiri's door, it all immediately turns sour, leaving a bitter taste in your mouth. Ignoring the shenanigans, you trudge to your own office and slam the door shut. Ugh. You can already feel the weight of the night's idiocy weighing on your shoulders.  
        You reread the notes for your debate with Sore-Gor, losing yourself in your preparations. It's an interesting assignment from one point of view, but the core conceit is revolting to you on a personal level: you and Tagora are supposed to play the roles of rival legislacerators who both took down the same target, and you have the plead the case for you to get the bounty over Tagora. That's what the assignment says, at least. But there's no way Tagora isn't going to use cheap, underhanded tactics when the head of the fictional review board is a hardcore FLARPer and a fan of Phoeni Xwrite. Speaking of, you sweep your office one last time, looking for any signs of tampering that you missed the first nine times around while you check your palmhusk for any messages from Tirona. If Sore-Gor's going to fight dirty, then you're just going to have to fight dirtier. It's just an assignment, after all, nobody's life is really on the line; and you need to get the best marks possible to get the position you want when you get shipped offplanet. There's no way you're going to lose to that bastard.

>Tyzias: Skip to the debate.

Oh, how you wish that you could. But unless the passage of time decides to magically bend to your whim, you're stuck literally waiting in the wings for two more minutes to think of the several conceivable ways you could lose to that bastard. The hour and a half you had to get ready lumbered by at a perfectly normal speed. You've never understood what other trolls mean when they say time flies by. You count every second of every minute at the exact same pace, regardless of the urgency and your personal engagement with the task at hand. The pinpoint accuracy of your internal clock is both a gift and a curse; while you always have a near-perfect estimation of how much you can accomplish within a given timeframe and you can buckle down to work with enough methodical attention to detail to boggle the minds of other trolls, it somehow makes waiting excruciatingly painful. Like now, for instance. There's now ninety seconds left on the clock, and you have basically nothing to do. Your thinkpan has already absorbed all the information it can take from the case file.  
       So you drum your touch stumps to your gravity connectors as the seconds tick down. You're already out of your seat and walking onto the stage once the time comes. Sore-Gor's there too, of course, hands clasped behind his back and looking smug as ever. He smirks at you as you take your place. You don't even give him the courtesy of firing back with your own salvo of facial derision. He scowls.  
        On the judge's bench are Tegiri, Tirona, and... you squint at the last one, who's kicked her feet up on the folding table: a troll with long, shaggy hair hanging over her shoulders that passes through two purrbeast ear-like horns, one with a notch cut into it. She's wearing a snappy teal suit. You've never see her around the office before. Seeing your raised eyebrow, Tegiri startles.

TEGIRI: Unfortunate/y, a// the tro//s in our office have urgent business, and s  
??????: nobody wanted to deal with you losers *|  


Tegiri glares at the mystery troll while Tirona cackles. You smirk, hiding it by taking a sip from your mug. It's true. The clique that you have the dubious honor of belonging to is notorious for having the highest density of shenanigans among the office study groups. Its reputation isn't helped by the rampant rumors about the mysterious, dark-eyed troll seething with ill intent that probably tortures wigglers in her spare time. Or something. Who's to say?

TEGIRI: Ahem. So I had to outsource a third board member. Her name is Po/  


She clamps a hand over Tegiri's mouth before he can complete his sentence.

??????: tabula *|  
TEGIRI:  
TEGIRI: Yes. Of course. It is a great honor to have you here, Tabu/a.  
TIRONA: can w33 just g33t start33d already?  
TABULA: we have been sitting here * for literally less than a minute *|  
TABULA: can you chill *|  
TAGORA: I must agree with Tirona. I am an extremely busy troll, after all, and the sooner we complete this assignment, the sooner I can attend to my clients.  
TAGORA: Although I can't imagine that this will take very long. *_________

He locks ganderbulbs with you, grinning like a hyena. You don't flinch.

TEGIRI: Very we//! /et us begin with a summary of the case.  
TEGIRI: Three /unar cyc/es and twenty-two hours before the current date, /egis/acerator Tyzias discovered an indigob/ooded seria/ ki//er whose bodycount was found to be above acceptab/e thresho/ds, and pursuit of the crimina/ began immediate/y afterwards.

You internally bristle over "acceptable thresholds," but that's a topic for another assignment. You're already assembling an argument in the back of your mind, though. Never hurts to get a head start on a new piece of rebellious sub-sub-subtext to put into your next paper.

TIRONA: th33n tyzias trac33d tagora's st33ps for a f33w days until you both found th33 kill33r!  
TIRONA: wh33n you corn33r33d him...

Both Tegiri and Tirona look at Tabula expectantly.

TABULA: what *|  
TIRONA: 33ach of us n3333ds to participat33 if w33 want to g33t grad33d by the administrangl33r  
TIRONA: so mayb33 say som33thing?  
TABULA: tegiri didn't give me the notes * for your stupid roleplay *|

Tirona pulls at her axolotltails, Tegiri stutters out apologies and shoves his packet into Tabula's hands, and Tagora tsks in disappointment. Tabula seems about as fazed as you are by this whole situation. Which is to say not at all. You take another sip of your water, ever-so-slightly amused by the debacle. Admittedly, you're somewhat curious about this mysterious friend of Tegiri's. You suspect that she's his pale crush, considering that she's obviously not a teal—what kind of tealblood doesn't copiously go over any and all information given to them for every possible situation in paranoid preparation?—and her general appearance matches what Tegiri described in the rare occasions that you overheard him gushing. It's odd that Tegiri would do this at all, though. There's no way he of all people would invite a nonteal to an in-office group assignment and allow her to impersonate a member of their caste outside of extreme circumstances.  
        The reason why is probably exactly what "Tabula" said in her blunt candor: nobody wants to deal with the regrettably high foolery attribute of this group. But things must be really desperate if nobody could find a single troll willing to play the third board member. Probably because Tegiri got a new sword and has been taking every opportunity to show it off. And Sore-Gor's kismesis has been turning up the heat, so Tagora's been fining anybody who so much as breathes in his general direction as a result of his heightened irritation. And Tirona made memes out of the more embarrassing blackmail material she could find on everyone that didn't acquiesce to her protection fees this perigee (you routinely budget your caegars to pay her off; while you keep your most dangerous information on lockdown, you don't want to risk her finding anything more unsavory than Stelsa's nudes), renewing the ire that all of her victims feel towards the tiny tyrant. And your sinister reputation precedes you, of course. You can't really blame anybody who wants to avoid your group.  
        Eventually, the clamor dies down, and Tabula dutifully speaks up; although not without staring daggers in Tegiri's direction first.  


TABULA: tagora shot him in the thinkpan with a sniper rifle * and tyzias stabbed him through the pumpbiscuit * at the exact same time * somehow *|  
TABULA: in my opinion * tagora should be credited * since the impact of a sniper rifle is greater than a sword * don't get me wrong a blade is a respectable weapon * but if you have the budget you need to go for a kinetic payload deliverer when you're taking out highbloods * bastards are hard to kill *|

Tegiri elbows Tabula. She tenses for a moment, looking like she's about to throw him to the floor, but Tabula relaxes and rolls her eyes after a few seconds.

TABULA: regardless * the death was instantaneous * so neither legislacerator can be conclusively credited *|  
TABULA: so * they're arguing the case before the board *|  
TABULA: there * you happy now *|  
TEGIRI: Indeed, that was satisfactory. Thank you, Tabu/a.  
TEGIRI: Now, with that out of the way...  
TIRONA: l33t th33 trial begin!

Tegiri reaches for the gavel at the same time as Tirona. They stop, hands hovering above the handle as they glare at each other.

TIRONA: i wanna do it!  
TEGIRI: I am not certain you could even /ift the gave/.  
TIRONA: and im "not c33rtain" that you want the r33st of th33 offic33 to find out about h33r

She jabs a thumb at Tabula. The faux-tealblood is entirely unperturbed. You're not certain if she's even capable of being perturbed.

TABULA: tegiri * you know i'll just kill her if she breathes a word about this * right *|  
TABULA: that goes for the rest of you too * by the way *|

Now _that_ gets Tirona perturbed. You raise a singular eyebrow, and Tagora just snickers.

TEGIRI: No! I...  
TEGIRI: Very we//. You may have the honor, Tirona.  
TIRONA: finally! now w33 can g33t start33d!

It takes another two minutes for Tirona to heave the gavel over her head and slam it onto the table. It's an absurd production. Once it's over with, Tegiri pushes his glasses up and points dramatically at you and Sore-Gor. You're not sure why.

TEGIRI: /egis/acerators! Make your cases!

Most trolls would assume that you'd be slow on the verbal draw, due to how your speech drawwwwls. But that's very much not the case. Before Tagora can even open his mouth, you're making your opening statement.

TYZIAS: i mmmmean, it's pretty clear cut  
TYZIAS: if i didn't find the killer in the first place, this all this bullshit wwwwouldn't even be happening  
TYZIAS: he'd still be out there, killing mmmmore trolls and shattering mmmmore quads

The subtext being that even if he was below the "acceptable threshold" for murder, he'd still be doing the latter. Sore-Gor picks up on it and narrows his eyes. You take another sip from your mug. He takes it for the challenge it is and speaks.

TAGORA: Regardless of the emotional damage sustained by the quadmates of his victims, the precedent clearly shows that the legislacerator who accomplished the majority of the legwork receives the bounty.  
TAGORA: See Victor v. Victus and Teoiri v. Tadain, which I have already printed a copy of for each of you.  
TAGORA: Both of these cases dealt with similar crimes with perpetrators that were culled in the same fashion as how Legislacerator Tyzias and I disposed of the criminal in question here. And the legislacerator that was found to have done the most work in finding the perpetrator and apprehending them was viewed favorably by the board, even if the other one found them in the first place. It's well-documented that I discovered the majority of the clues, thus, I should receive the bounty. *________

Tegiri and Tirona dutifully read through the transcripts that Tagora supplied, while Tabula doesn't bother pretending to read them and just tosses the packets over her shoulder. You scoff, shaking your head.

TYZIAS: i have to ask, in wwwwhat wwwworld are you living in that victor v victus and teoiri v tadain are remmmmotely relevant in this case?  
TYZIAS: both of those disputes were over nonviolent crimmmminals, not, you knowwww, fucking serial mmmmurderers  
TYZIAS: tmmmmaran v taniel, restai v trazno, ytuzau v ghitan, twwwwenah v ultimmmma, and ratasa v tuvaln all set precedent favoring the discoverer of the perp if the crimmmminal's commmmmmmmitted actionable crimmmmes, and they've been cited far mmmmore often than sore-gor's case, as the statistics i sent the bench's wwwway showwww  


Again, Tegiri and Tirona pore over the evidence, and again Tabula throws it into the pile of paper accumulating behind her. Tagora wags his finger and leers at you.

TAGORA: Objection!

Tegiri's head snaps to attention like a barkbeast whose name has been called.

TAGORA: You forget one thing, Tyzias.  
TAGORA: The cases you cited all involved perpetrators of olive blood and below.  
TAGORA: Which, as we all know, makes them inapplicable to the dilemma we face tonight. *_________

Sore-Gor practically preens over the hole he just punched in your argument. He knows your biases well, and so must've prepared to counter those specific cases. And, unfortunately, he did make a valid point. If the empire's absolute shitshow of a system made a shred of sense, that sort of distinction wouldn't hold up in court. A killer is a killer is a killer, in your opinion, no matter their blood color. But no. Hemoism leaks into every aspect of society by design. You knew this would happen, of course.

TYZIAS: really  
TYZIAS: then howwww about tasean v tiarsa  
TYZIAS: or arcate v mmmmaciet

He freezes.

TAGORA: What. *_________  
TYZIAS: here, if you wwwwant to take a look

You hand him a thick sheaf of paper, photocopies of an old, old text. Sore-Gor frantically flips through it, eyes wide. These cases are as arcane as they get. You found them in the dustiest corner of the jadeblood bookhive while searching for more... illicit information. Nobody else who would actually be interested in these transcripts could've found them.

TAGORA: This must be fake. I found no record of  
TEGIRI: It's on the database. How Tyzias cou/d have possib/y discovered such ancient scripts confounds me, but they are va/id precedent.  
TAGORA:  
TIRONA: w33333333ll, tagora? do you hav33 anything to counter th33s33?

Tirona snaps a picture of Tagora's stunned expression, his fangs digging into his lower lip as he limply holds the papers in his hands.

TIRONA: wait, no dont  
TIRONA: i gotta get mor33 pics of your fac33  
TIRONA: you should s3333 it its pric33l33s

Sore-Gor grips the paper hard enough for it to crumple... then relaxes, straightening and brushing some imaginary dust off his shoulder.

TAGORA: I was hoping I wouldn't have to bring this up, but I'm afraid I have no other choice. *_________

Oh boy. Here it comes. Sighing and shaking his head, Tagora grabs a collection of pictures from his breast pocket and presents it to the bench. They're depict receipts lying on your desk that show egregious bribes that you've obviously never taken as well as equally impossible embezzlement since the organization that you've supposedly been stealing from doesn't exist.

TAGORA: As you can see, Legislacerator Tyzias should be barred from these proceedings due to her crimes.  
TAGORA: I move to judge her at a later date, after a full investigation into these allegations is conducted.  
TAGORA: We must detain Miss Entykk until then. *_________  
TEGIRI: Gasp!  
TIRONA: now this is g33tting int33r33sting

Tabula groans, facepalming.

TABULA: are you seriously going * to let this fucking nerd * use obviously fake evidence here *|  
TABULA: dude * this isn't one of your stupid flarps *|  
TABULA: even i know * that this is bullshit *|  
TEGIRI: Tabu/a, we should at /east investigate these a//egations.  
TABULA: you do realize the firm is fictional * right *|  
TYZIAS: regardless of the realness attribute of these proceedings  
TYZIAS: allowwww mmmme to disprove that "evidence"

You put airquotes around "evidence" because c'mon, you think you're entitled to be kind of an asshole in this ridiculous situation. All the heads in the room swivel towards you.

TAGORA: And how, pray tell, would you possibly do that? *_________  
TYZIAS: pretty fucking easily, sore-gor  
TYZIAS: just gonna cut to the chase here, i ammmm wwwway mmmmessier than that  
TAGORA:  
TAGORA: I beg your pardon? *_________  


You snatch one of the pictures, then pull up an image of your office pre-tampering on your palmhusk, showing it to everyone else in the room.

TYZIAS: spot the difference, everyone  
TYZIAS: i knowwww it's a gammmme for wwwwigglers but considering that's the level wwwwe're apparently playing on i figured it wwwwas appropriate  
TYZIAS: tabula?  
TABULA: okay * sure * this is stupid but sure *|  
TABULA: i don't think i could walk anywhere in that first pic * without stepping on a thumbtack *|  
TABULA: but in that second one * the area all around the "receipts" is weirdly organized *|  
TABULA: like some anal-retentive asshole * couldn't stand the mess and cleaned up a little *|  
TABULA: isn't that right * sore-gor *|

You hold out your palm to Tabula. She doesn't leave you hanging. To his credit, Sore-Gor maintains his composure, even though his eye twitches slightly.

TAGORA: Pah. You could've purposefully put your office in disarray to hide the accounts. *_________  
TYZIAS: tirona?  
TIRONA: y33s?  
TYZIAS: you wwwwere snooping around in there a night before those say they wwwwere printed, yeah?  
TIRONA: y33p  
TYZIAS: wwwwas any part of it nearly as organized as wwwwhat's in that picture?  
TIRONA: nop33. i was thinking "damn bitch, you liv33 like this?" th33 33ntir33 tim33 i was in th33r33  
TYZIAS: i knowwww you're thorough. did you find anything remmmmotely like wwwwhat tagora says wwwwas in there wwwwhile you wwwwere spying?  
TIRONA: not at all  
TAGORA: You backstabbing little gremlin! *_________  
TYZIAS: i wwwwas hoping i wwwwouldn't have to bring this up, but...

You swipe to the next image on your palmhusk: a screenshot of an incredibly steamy chatlog between Tagora and his indigo kismesis. Every other troll in the room gasps (except Tabula, who performs a 2X FACEPALM COMBO). You lips twitch upwards for a fraction of a moment before returning to your resting exhausted face.

TYZIAS: you knowwww, sore-gor, if you had decided to debate this out wwwwith mmmme fair and square, i wwwwouldn't have had to do you like this  
TYZIAS: but i guess i'mmmm stooping to your level  
TYZIAS: the timmmmes here line up wwwwith wwwwhen legislacerator tagora wwwwent mmmmissing frommmm points of the case's records  
TYZIAS: and i believe that if you check the autopsy report, he wwwwas at the perfect angle to shoot mmmme as wwwwell as the perpetrator  
TYZIAS: if i hadn't ducked just in timmmme...

You whistle as Tegiri checks the report, nodding in confirmation.

TYZIAS: i think this is enough evidence to at least investigate the mmmmatter, and to resolve this case in mmmmy favor until this is cleared up  
TAGORA: W-Wait! I can show you the context of those chats! It isn't... isn't whatever Tyzias is making it out to be! *_________

He fumbles out his palmhusk, trying to log into his Grype account. And failing. Again and again. Tirona cackles maniacally.

TAGORA: What did you do?!  
TIRONA: nothing you can prov33!

Tirona sticks her tongue out at Sore-Gor, and he recoils.

TYZIAS: wwwwell then  
TYZIAS: i mmmmove for the board to judge the outcommmme  
TEGIRI: I must vote for Tyzias to receive the bounty.  
TIRONA: m33 too  
TABULA: i'm abstaining * because this is fucking stupid *|  
TIRONA: you hav33 to vot33 dumpass  
TABULA: ugh * fine * i vote in favor of—

Then the left wall explodes, and a drone comes crashing through the rubble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Stelzias segment was partially inspired by Kate and Dia complaining about Stelsa and Tyzias never actually kissing onscreen during PGenPod #42, so you have those two to thank for this. "Life Will Change" from the P5 soundtrack came on while I was writing Tyzias turning the tables on Tagora, which I believe is very thematically appropriate.


	3. ACT I, Volume Three: The Prosecution May Begin its Cross-Examination

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ACT I: Something Ominous About Beginnings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy birthday, Kate.

        By your estimation, you're screwed straight up the nook by a carnivorous thornpole. It's got to be here to cull you. You knew that leaving that note with, or, er, losing it in the street, or— ugh. Bottom line is that you messed something up, and now a drone's here to cull you and maybe everybody else for the high crime of associating with you.  
        You just wish that you had some time to prepare beforehand, honestly. Get your affairs in order, turn in your part of the project to Sore-Gor, dispose of your Sufferer and Summoner notes... fuck it, maybe clean your hive. Better late than never, right?  
        The fact that you're actually about to die makes that pun funnier. You'd laugh if—

DRONE: CONGRATULATIONS

Wait, what.

DRONE: TROLLS  
DRONE: Tyzias Entykk  
DRONE: AND  
DRONE: Tegiri Kalbur  
DRONE: YOU HAVE BEEN SELECTED FOR  
DRONE: An exclusive deployment opportunity.  
TYZIAS: wwwwait hold up for one fucki  
TEGIRI: What exact/y is going on h  
DRONE: THANK YOU FOR YOUR COOPERATION

And before either of you can get another word in edgewise, the monstrosity grabs both of you with and flies into the night sky.

>Tyzias: Be the other tealblood.

        You can't be the other tealblood, because Tabula isn't really a tealblood. And anyways, she's too busy casually walking away as the drone abducts you. She asks herself, What's the big deal? Have they never had to run from a drone raid before? Then Not-Tabula remembers these are all upper-middle class nerds who probably haven't even thought of the possibility of a hostile drone encounter, much less had to witness a neighborhood burning down around them just because somebody was found without a lusus while they were disguised as a yellowblood. That somebody is definitely not her, though. That's Not-Tabula's story, and she's sticking to it.  
        Right, the lass-scampering. As the rest of the office is boggling vacantly at the pandemonium in the debate room, Not-Tabula's striding through the crowd as nonchalantly as she can. As badass as it would look, jumping over the heads of these office workers would attract way more attention that what she's comfortable with. And it's not like she cares about looking cool. Looking cool is a detriment when you're an assassin; it makes you stick in the thinkpans of anybody watching, hardcore parkour is way less efficient than just blending in with the crowd and swapping disguises nine times out of ten, biznasty kickflips are just another opening for your opponents to take advantage of... the list goes on. The point is, Not-Tabula can't afford to worry about how good she'd look on camera (unless she's being recorded by her contractor, but she tries not to get involved with snuff films).  
        ...  
        Okay, maybe she cares about those downright subzero moves a little—who doesn't?—but that's irrelevant. Thanking her lucky stars that the drone isn't on her ass this time, Not-Tabula slips into the night without a trace.

>Not-Tabula: Be the _other_ other tealblood.

        As we've already established, Not-Tabula isn't a tealblood, so you can't be the other tealblood if she isn't actually a tealblood! What are you, an idiot?

>Fine. Be the tealblood, then.

        After a minute of trying to yell at each other over the rushing wind with only sore shoutpipes to show for it, you and Tegiri laboriously maneuver your palmhusks into your hands through the iron grip of the drone. Figuring out how to hang onto your mug at the same time was an ordeal, but you found a way.

~~~chivalricCounselor [CC] began griping with agoranCastigator [AC] at 22:17~~~  
CC: Tyzias, I commend your dedication towards preserving your property.  
CC: Have you deve/oped a regimen for training your jaw strength? I must know it if you have, for it may one night prove a great asset in the fie/d.  
AC: nah  
AC: i'mmmm just commmmmmmmitted to the bit tbh  
AC: you knowwww, that one girl wwwwith the mmmmug and all the horrifying rummmmors  
AC: that's mmmme  
AC: it wwwwould be like losing part of mmmmy identity or sommmmething just as overblowwwwn if i lost it  
AC: anywwwways wwwwhat do you think all this hoofbeastshit is about  
AC: immmmho odds are that it's sommmme hacker mmmmessing wwwwith us because they're bored  
AC: it's happened before  
AC: i still find scraps frommmm wwwwhen those twwwwo assholes had a bulge-mmmmeasuring contest with hacked drones near the office  
CC: If some /ow/y cur has defi/ed the drone mainframe, they wi// taste my b/ade's stee/ as sure/y as the sun sets.  
CC: But...  
CC: Dare to dream, Tyzias!  
CC: Is it not p/ausib/e—no, inevitab/e!—that a star /egis/acerator took notice of my ta/ents?  
CC: That they judged me worthy to bequeath the Lost Arts to and to fight the forgotten horrors of the universe with?  
CC: Or perhaps they noticed an aptitude for synchronization with mechanica/ titans on my /atest biometrics test, and realized that I wou/d make a pi/ot the /ikes of which haven't been seen in thousands of sweeps!  
AC: tegiri i don't knowwww wwwwhen the last timmmme somebody's told you this wwwwas but the fact that only psions can pilot mmmmechabliterators hasn't changed since then  
CC: Feh.  


The drone jerks to a stop, and your mug nearly comes tumbling from your mouth. You only hold onto it by sheer force of will. In front of you is... a compact metal shuttle, hovering just above the demarcation line between Alternia and Empire space. Oh. _Oh._  
        Maybe you should've dared to dream. Or nightmare, in this case.

>Tyzias: Be the adult tealblood.

        Most trolls would find this mobile interrogation shuttle too cramped for their liking. That's by design; claustrophobic spaces put pressure on suspects, making them easier to crack. But you're not most trolls, as you've demonstrated and said multiple times now. The fact that you're not most trolls should go without saying at this point, really. Anyways, you've lived in a ship tinier than this for hundreds of sweeps. The burnished steel interior and the utilitarian table and chairs feel more hivey than anything else.  
        It's a good thing that you belabored the station manager into dropping the MIS into Alternia's atmosphere rather than assigning you a cell to use on the deployment satellite. You're already raising eyebrows by entering the system, and if it goes on the official record that you're interviewing a troll who hasn't been deployed yet... people would ask questions, even though this operation was cleared by Thirteen. And as sensitive Tyzias's case is, it would be dangerous for both of you if those questions spread. You also selected a few more plausible candidates to further confuse the true purpose of this operation to any outside observers. Plus you doubt Thirteen would take kindly to you picking one candidate and flying off with her without so much as looking anyone else on his list.  
        You're re-reading one of Tyzias's more flagrantly anti-establishment essays—which is to say, the anti-Khondesce messaging is sub-subtext instead of sub-sub-subtext—when you hear the containment cell's door open to the shrieking winds outside and two bodies being tossed inside before it slams shut again. She's arrived. You press a button under the table, and the interior doors slide open with a mechanical hiss.

CALIBURN: 1.e4 Entykk. ...e5

She slouches into the room as the door closes behind her, hands stuffed deep into her hoodie's pockets and glaring hard enough to curdle lusus milk as she takes takes a seat. You figured Tyzias would be some kind of firebrand revolutionary, a punk with a chip on her shoulder and a style to match. Trolls who have enough confidence to do what Tyzias does generally show it off at every opportunity. But she definitely isn’t what you were expecting to see. Since the images got corrupted when the files on each of the candidates were sent to you (you've always have the absolute worst luck with all of Thirteen's fancy dadblasted technology) there was nothing to counter your preconceptions until now. Instead of a cocksure rebel sitting across the table, there's a troll that's apparently incapable of sitting up straight wearing socks and sandals. She peers at you from behind her blocky glasses, hair thoroughly tousled, hoodie rumpled and button-up half untucked. Somehow, she clung onto her cup and book on the flight here. You have to admit, that's impressive.

TYZIAS: you do realize you could've told the drone to not bust through the wwwwall like the fucking grub-aid mmmmusclebeast, right  
TYZIAS: i can guarantee that fiasco is commmming out of our paychecks, not yours

>Secily: Be Tyzias.

        It's only after your words leave your mouth that you process who it is exactly that you're talking to: Judgment Caliburn. _The_ Judgment Caliburn. The visage of the most accomplished legislacerator in recent history is instantly recognizable; they feature on a solid two-thirds of the cases you've been assigned to study. That grey-and-gold longcoat, the crisp teal vest with the symbol of Libittarius just above their bloodpusher, the one-eyed red visor that would look ridiculous on anyone else but Caliburn, the (admittedly pretty hot) distinctive undercut... all of it adds up to equal a troll who is among the least likely out of the entire empire to tolerate any lip. Caliburn's face is a mask of glowering stone, cold and lethal. _Shit._

CALIBURN: 2.Nf3 Noted. Your firm will be reimbursed for the structural damage. ...Nc6  
CALIBURN: 3.d4 I'll make sure to modify the drone's standing orders to prevent any further incidents of a similar nature during this operation. ...exd4  
CALIBURN: 4.Bc4 Thank you for informing me of this issue. ...Bc5

Huh. You would’ve thought that they’d be far less reasonable, being the primary enforce of a totalitarian regime and all.

CALIBURN: 5.Ng5 Now, let's discuss the matter at hand. ...Ne5  
TYZIAS: yeah let's  
TYZIAS: wwwwhy the fuck ammmm i here exactly  
TYZIAS: as fun as that drone ride wwwwas, i believe it's normmmmally reserved for trolls about to be deployed  
TYZIAS: i don't knowwww if you noticed but i'm two swwwweeps too young for that  
CALIBURN: 6.Bxf7+ I am well aware, Ms. Entykk. But as strange as these circumstances seem, this is a unique opportunity for you. ...Nxf7  
CALIBURN: 7.Nxf7 The Judgment Champions have a tradition of selecting apprentices to train directly under us, allowing us to mold the next generation of top-tier crime annihilators personally. ...Bb4+  
CALIBURN: 8.c3 And due to our directives being somewhat looser than the ones that apply to most trolls, we can choose candidates from pools that would be inaccessible to other trolls. ...dxc3  
CALIBURN: 9.bxc3 I trust that you understand what I'm getting at here. ...Bxc3+

You stare at Caliburn for a moment, stunned. Then you start laughing.

>Tyzias: Be Caliburn.

        Every teal in the empire would jump at the chance to apprentice under you. Unfortunately, you're a celebrity among legislacerators. A career as long, storied, and as successful as yours inevitably attracts all kinds of attention. You'd almost prefer it if it were just criminal scum who whispered your name in awed fear—that's easier to deal with than running into trolls cosplaying you. According to Oricka, many trolls online "kin" you. You're too afraid to ask her what that means.  
        Yet here Tyzias is, defying your expectations once again.

CALIBURN: 10.Nxc3 What are you finding so hilarious, if I may ask? ...Kxf7  
TYZIAS: i'mmmm sorry, it's just that  
TYZIAS: mmmme?  
TYZIAS: _mmmme?_  
TYZIAS: howwww the hell could i possibly qualify to be your gofer or wwwwhatever  
TYZIAS: i dislocated my shoulder fistbummmmping a jade ffs  
TYZIAS: i'd eat shit and crack mmmmy thinkpan open before anybody could even attack mmmme if i got into a fight  
TYZIAS: no offense but there's no wwwway i'mmmm putting my ass on the line wwwwhen i'mmmm basically guaranteed a nice, cushy desk job as soon as i get deployed for real  
TYZIAS: talk to tegiri or any other troll wwwwho's remmmmotely commmmpetent about these kinds of things, i'mmmm out

You narrow your eyes as she gets out of the chair, snatching her mug and book before ambling back towards the containment cell. Something's off here. Considering her abysmal physical scores, you can understand why Tyzias would be surprised at the offer. It's only sensible; anybody with her scores would be hesitant to accept the position you're offering. But this immediate, theatrical rejection strikes you as odd. A recommendation from you, let alone a full apprenticeship, would be enough to rocket any troll to the position of their choosing once they're out from under your wing regardless of aptitude. It should be a tempting offer, and it would only be sensible to at least consider it. Unless... the troll in question has something to hide from you. Something they can't afford to risk even casual scrutiny from the most experienced legislacerator of their time. Your next words are laced with steel.

CALIBURN: 11.Qd5+ This interview is not optional, Ms. Entykk. Kf8...  
CALIBURN: 12.Ba3+ Sit. Down. ...d6

>Secily: Be Tyzias.

        You were hoping to abscond from this interview early and not have to deal with Caliburn haranguing you about whatever it is that they think is interesting about you—you have too many irons in the fire to budget time for this obvious misjudgment on their part—but you suppose it was a long shot. You stand stock-still, back to Caliburn, sigh deeply, and let out a fifteen-second groan before slumping back into the chair.  
        If Tegiri could see this, he'd be livid at witnessing this much insubordination directed at one of his heroes. But the thing is, as much as Caliburn holds all the cards in this situation (primarily the one that's your ride back to your hive, since you can't exactly walk there from a drop of several thousand feet), they don't have any actual authority. They're just above the legal demarcation line of atmospheric liaisons, but even here adults can't command or cull Alternians until they leave orbit entirely. At least the Summoner's Rebellion accomplished one thing; you have it and the Diaspora Articles to thank for being able to give Caliburn the proverbial middle finger. And if you're uncooperative and annoying enough, maybe, just maybe, they'll give up and send you hiveward.

TYZIAS: ugh  
TYZIAS: fine  
TYZIAS: wwwwhat do you wwwwant to knowwww

>Secily: Inquire about aspirations.

        And with a _ding_ from your visor accompanied by the appearance of the Investigation Progress Bar, the chase is on.

CALIBURN: 13.e5 It seems as though you're looking forward to what you assume is your future as a desk jockey. ...Qg5  
TYZIAS: yep  
CALIBURN: 14.exd6 And why is that, exactly? ...Qxd5  
TYZIAS: it's wwwwhat i'mmmm good at  
CALIBURN: 15.dxc7+ That can't be the only reason. Every member of our caste excels at filling out paperwork, and many of them go on to become field agents. ...Kf7  
TYZIAS: wwwwell

She pauses, gathering her thoughts.

TYZIAS: i have sommmme  
TYZIAS: ideas  
CALIBURN: 16.Kxd5 Such as? ...Bd7  
TYZIAS: the bureaucracy is a mmmmess, yeah?  
CALIBURN: 17.O-O I admit that it is frustrating at times, yes. Where are you going with this? ...Rc8  
TYZIAS: wwwwe're good at dealing wwwwith all the forms and surveys and gammmmes of text tag since us teals spend our entire lives mmmmired in the sty of hornbeastshit that is our glorious emmmmpire's legal systemmmm  
TYZIAS: hell, wwwwe showwww off how good we are at swwwwimmmming in it all the timmmme  
TYZIAS: but even wwwwe admmmmit it’s a shitshow  
TYZIAS: so it's gotta be mmmmore of a fucking nightmmmmare for everyone else  
TYZIAS: yeah sure it's that wwwway by design caste roles are caste roles blah blah blah  
TYZIAS: but if sommmmebody on the front needs to call in backup, they should be able to do it wwwwithout a teal to interpret the snoutbeast sty full of mmmmanure for themmmm  
TYZIAS: it could help us  
TYZIAS:  
TYZIAS: wwwwin wwwwars a lot mmmmore efficiently

The young troll grows slightly more animated over the course of her speech, going from dowwwwnright gelatinous to a particularly peppy sluggishness. But you note the half-second pause that Tyzias takes before she makes her final point. You can already guess what she almost said instead: "it could help us save lives." That's a dangerous thought to voice in the empire. Trolls might think that you're being compassionate.  
        Yet what's more telling are the other things she's not saying. If Tyzias could streamline the system to such an extent, she could change other things about it too. You recall several essays of hers that you've read, all pointing towards a void, an idea that's never outright implied but still swims in the undercurrent of all of Tyzias's work. Thankfully, you're good at working with voids.  
        Her ultimate goal is likely to twist the system to be kinder from the inside. A noble aspiration, really, not actually illegal except for the potential thoughtcrimes, and that's the subjugulators' jurisdiction. But the source of that ideology is suspect, and it may instigate true rebellion in the wrong (right?) mind. You collect an Insight Increment, and part of the Investigation Progress Bar fills in.

>Secily: Press Tyzias on sources.

        How dangerous Tyzias is depends on what forbidden lore she has access to. Some illegal information is radical, some is only banned because the Khondesce was feeling particularly ireful towards the author one night. Based on what she cited in several of her essays, you suspect that Tyzias somehow got her hands on transcription of the original Disciple texts, but confirming it without spooking her is going to need a delicate touch.

CALIBURN: 18.Bd6 I'm sure that if you end up in a position where you have the opportunity to enact that change, your academic mind would certainly be capable of doing it. ...Ke6  
TYZIAS: flattery isn't going to get you anywwwwhere chief  
TYZIAS: especially if it's blatantly untrue  
TYZIAS: you knowwww that the teal caste collectively has 3 fucking braincells and you have all of themmmm mmmmost of the timmmme  
CALIBURN: 19.Bg3 ...That seems physiologically improbable. ...Bc6  
TYZIAS: it's a mmmmemmmme bulgekelp  
CALIBURN: 20.Rad1 A what? ...Bxd5  
TYZIAS: holy fuck howwww out of touch are you  
TYZIAS: it's uh  
TYZIAS: a funny colloquialism  
CALIBURN: 21.Bfe1+ We're getting off track. ...Kf6  
TYZIAS: yeah no shit calib  
TYZIAS:  
TYZIAS: dammmmnit that doesn't wwwwork wwwwhen i'mmmm talking to the actual judgmmmment caliburn  
TYZIAS: fuck  
CALIBURN: 22.Rxd5 Ahem. ...Nh6  
TYZIAS: right sorry wwwwhoops back on track aye aye

She snaps a lazy salute, grinning joylessly. But little does Tyzias know, you are unfortunately aware of what a meme is through exposure to one Oricka Rourst. Your feigned cluelessness is a distaction (you knew you'd find a way to use that portmanteau) to get Tyzias to lower her guard. The way that the joke makes a whistling noise as it passes straight over your head still irks you, though.

CALIBURN: 23.Ra5 Many of the sources you cite in your work are incredibly obscure. A more modern text would've worked just as well in many cases. What drove you to go the extra AU? ...Nf5  
TYZIAS: wwwwhat do you mmmmean  
CALIBURN: 24.Rc5 Take your use of Neophyte Redglare's graduate thesis, for instance. The trolls that know about her number very few. ...Nxg3  
TYZIAS: oh right, that  
TYZIAS: i found a bunch of ancient shit during sommmme extracurriculars and i decided to use it to flex on everyone else  
TYZIAS: the oldies are goodies too  
TYZIAS: they have a bunch of useful precedents and showwww the root of a lot of lawwwws that still stand tonight  
TYZIAS: good for strutting your stuff in debates  
TYZIAS: plus they can be sommmme hilarious reading  
TYZIAS: sommmme of these assholes write these saucy journal entries and bury themmmm in the bookhive right next to their legit stuff  
TYZIAS: i'mmmm pretty sure that a lot of it is flarping

Tyzias's smirk widens, showing far too many fangs for it to be construed as a friendly gesture. The possibility that she's is deliberately taunting you grows with every word that comes out of her mouth. Perhaps she _is_ a highly volatile revolutionary just waiting to be unleashed upon the Empire's public.

>Secily: Be Tyzias

        Fuck, this is tedious. You can't wait to get this over and done with, head back to Stelsa's hive, maybe get a massage. Your back muscles are killing you from that flight.

>Secily: Stop being Tyzias.

CALIBURN: 25.hxg3 What's written in the margins of these old cases isn't the only thing that's substantively different from more modern sources. ...Kf7  
CALIBURN: 26.Rd1 The authors' biases color their writings more harshly due to looser regulations in those nights. Are they really still valid sources for purposes other than... showing your superior work ethic to your peers? ...Rhe8  
TYZIAS: eh  
TYZIAS: bias is everywwwwhere  
TYZIAS: even in the transcripts being pounded out right nowwww  
TYZIAS: wwwwhatever wwwweird fringe shit that the wwwwriters think can be accounted for during the evaluation of the text  
TYZIAS: and you can discount the parts that are super obviously biased, fuck, mmmmaybe even throwwww the wwwwhole thing out if it's especially egregious  
TYZIAS: standard practice no mmmmatter the era  
TYZIAS: wwwwe're taught how to do it in schoolfeeding ffs  
CALIBURN: 27.Rd6 I see. As interesting as her work is, many of Redglare's ideas are... questionable. Using her thesis must've been an exercise in those skills. ...Re7  
TYZIAS: trust mmmme there was wwwwaaaay stranger stuff from back in the night than wwwwhat ol' rg wwwwrote  
TYZIAS: although i don't touch that shit wwwwith an eleven-foot pole, using it wwwwould be begging to get culled

Gotcha.  
        You know full well that the questions' surface-level answers were obvious, but what Tyzias let slip while rebutting you is more important. She's aware that rebel sentiments were far more prevalent in that night and age, but she continued using those sources anyways. If Tyzias disposed of the more radical doctrine, she was the one who read it in the first place and could've made a copy before turning it into the drones. And considering how well-hidden those texts are in the first place, the chances that Tyzias would stumble on one accidentally more than once is questionable. Another Insight Increment, more progress in the bar. Now you're getting somewhere.

>Secily: Question self-deprecation regarding physical prowess.

        Trolls are a race that evolved to wage war. While individual thresholds of strength vary, most can grow powerful enough to demolish a soldier of another species with ease if they put in enough practice. So why is Tyzias so convinced that she'd make a terrible fighter even under your tutelage? It can’t be mere laziness, she’s already demonstrated her excellent work ethic on several counts

CALIBURN: 28.Rf5+ Moving on. You do realize that I am one of the most accomplished warriors in the Empire. If, hypothetically, you were to become my apprentice, you'd certainly grow competent enough to hold your own in a fight. ...Ke8  
TYZIAS: i do  
TYZIAS: but hypothetically knowwwwing howwww to fight and hypothetically being strong enough to do it doesn't mmmmean i wwwwon't still get totally hypothetically owwwwned by literally anyone else  
CALIBURN: 29.Rd8+ And why is that? ...Rxd8

She shrugs.

TYZIAS: because i hate fighting

What. 

TYZIAS: i mmmmean, i'll do it if i have to  
TYZIAS: i'll get culled if i don't  
TYZIAS: but i'mmmm alwwwways going to lose to sommmmebody wwwwho's not  
TYZIAS: you knowwww  
TYZIAS: a dirty cowwwward or wwwwhatever  
TYZIAS: so yeah  
TYZIAS: pretty fucking good reason to stay awwwway frommmm the front, immmmho

It takes a few seconds for you to recall what this strange psychological disorder is called. P... p... pacifism? Yeah, that sounds about right. It featured prominently in the Sufferer's texts, and if Tyzias recognizes it by that name...

CALIBURN: 30.Rf8+ So you're a pacifist. ...e8  
TYZIAS: yep

And, just like that, you get your last Insight Increment. Bingo. It's become incredibly clear that if Tyzias isn't closely watched, she will almost certainly attempt to start a revolution in just a few sweeps. Even if it starts nonviolent, it'll throw the empire into chaos, and soon grow out of control. She could be dangerous now if left to her own devices! Tyzias is a ticking time bomb. And although you have no authority (or, to be honest, the will) to cull Tyzias, you can definitely defuse her.

CALIBURN: 31.cxd8=Q+ This interview is over. ...1-0 ($b)  
TYZIAS: oh swwwweet finally

Without another word, Tyzias snatches her belongings and shuffles to the containment cell, where a drone is waiting to take her hivewards. You sigh. She's going to be a difficult one to deal with. But right now, you need to focus on getting the rest of the process out of the way and formally eliminate the rest of the candidates.

CALIBURN: 1.e4 Kalbur. ...g5

The troll that the drone grabbed with Tyzias strides in, preening as if he’s already won the apprenticeship. As soon as Kalbur looks at you, his eyes light up with disconcerting adoration.

TEGIRI: SEMPAI!

Your acid tubes twist into a knot. No, you are _not_ dealing with this.

CALIBURN: 2.Nc3 Out. ...f5  
TEGIRI: Wh  
CALIBURN: 3.Qh5++ _Out._ ...1-0

You can hear Tyzias cackling from inside the cell as Tegiri slinks away like a kicked infant barkbeast.

>Tyzias: Chillax.

        Oh, you most definitely are. Sitting in Stelsa's lap as she brushes your hair in the wee hours of the morning is quite possibly the most chillaxable place to be. At least Caliburn's visit was good for one thing; with the wall being repaired by drones, everybody was too nervous to work and was subsequently dismissed to their hives. And since Stelsa was fortunate enough to finish her itinerary early, you met up at your hive.  
        You suppose that there is one other small blessing that came from the interview, though.

TYZIAS: i still can't get over his fucking face stels  
TYZIAS: wwwwhen they told kalbur to leave it wwwwas like wwwwatching a wwwwiggler getting denied their favorite grubslurry flavor  
TYZIAS: it wwwwas sad but so funny at the same time  
STELSA: THIS IS IN TERRIBLE TASTE  
STELSA: DO YOU HAVE PICTURES  
TYZIAS: trust mmmme, it's better than anything you could immmmagine

You hand Stelsa your palmhusk, with several pictures of Tegiri's stages of grief on the camera roll. She giggles behind her hand.

STELSA: OH MY GOODNESS THESE ARE ABSOLUTELY DELIGHTFUL  
STELSA: DONT GET ME WRONG IT WAS VERY RUDE TO TAKE THEM BUT STILL  
TYZIAS: yeah, i'mmmm gonna keep the pics in reserve until i need sommmme blackmmmmail material  
STELSA: FOR THAT GREMLIN OR THE WEEABOO HIMSELF  
TYZIAS: wwwwhy not both

You grin lazily up at her, and she pecks you on the lips. But before your embrace can turn more passionate, something rings your doorbell. You ignore it, leaning into the kiss. Then a drone's voice reverberates through your hive.

DRONE: PACKAGE FOR  
DRONE: Tyzias Entykk

Grumbling, you tumble off the couch and shamble over to the door, pulling it open after three times (although the first definitely doesn't count because you forgot to unlock it). You squint up at the hulking figure of the drone, scowling.

TYZIAS: wwwwhat the hell d  
DRONE: CONGRATULATIONS  
DRONE: YOU HAVE BEEN SELECTED FOR  
DRONE: Early deployment.  
DRONE: MESSAGE FROM JUDGMENT CALIBURN FOLLOWS:  
DRONE: 1.d4 You have twenty-four hours until you leave. ...e6  
DRONE: 2.d5 Use this sylladex to pack whatever you think you'll need. ...1-0 ($b)  
DRONE: PACKAGE, Sylladex, DELIVERED

It spits a blue card from its chest into your hand and flies off.

TYZIAS:  
TYZIAS:  
TYZIAS:  
TYZIAS: wwwwhat the fuck

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was worried Tyzias was getting a bit too Strider-y in this fic, but I rechecked her route and realized that she's just like that. I hypothesize that Dave, Karkat, and Tyzias are the trifecta of long-winded sardonic assholes from which all others are derived.
> 
> I'm using the $ to denote one side conceding in Secily's chess notation, in case any of you are curious what that particular symbol means.


	4. ACT I, Volume Four: The Edge of Dusk

>Tyzias: Contemplate your fate.

        Tyzias is too busy boggling vacantly into the night and stewing in despair to take commands right now. Maybe you should try someone else?

>Be Stelsa.

        Your name is Stelsa Sezyat, and, even moreso than usual, you are very worried about Tyzias Entykk.  
        Tyzias always has you worried. (Even though it definitely isn't your job to worry about her. Not at all. If only she'd get a proper moirail, then... you're getting off track.) Between all the days she stays up working, the secret she keeps that hangs between you and her even when you're at your closest, and her fatalistic sentiments about her role in the Empire, any troll close to her would be anxious about her.  
        The last item on that list is the cause of your current distress. Ever since the drone delivered its message, your matesprit's been, well, you're not sure how to describe it. You've only seen her like this once, no, twice before. When you first met, and when... when... darnit, you can't remember!  
        After the drone left, Tyzias just stood in the doorframe for half a minute, shaking. Once the initial shock passed, Tyzias shambled over to her respiteblock and slammed the door shut. Most wouldn't see the subtle differences in how she moved, how she breathed. The absence of anima that makes your heart clench. When other trolls look at Tyzias, they see nothing but a listless lout who drifts purposelessly through the night. But you know better. You can see the simmering fire in her eyes when she's thinking, the unstoppable glacial momentum in each of her movements when she has something important to do. That passion hidden just beneath the surface is why you fell in love with her. Now all of that is absent.  
        You stare at Tyzias through a crack in her door. She's sitting at her desk, surrounded by a pile of books and paging through a particularly thick tome. She's been like this for hours. While a midday study session isn't unheard of for your dear Zizi, she's always relied on you to help her—debated with you over grubloaf, outlined essays while you brushed her tangled hair, ranted about obscure precedents while watching terrible movies... whenever you were with Tyzias, she never worked alone, never lost herself between pages until she worked herself into exhaustion. Now something's changed.  
        The box of grubloaf feeling strangely heavy in your hands, you clear your throat. She doesn't respond.

STELSA: ZIZI DEAR  
STELSA: I GOT SOME GRUBLOAF  
STELSA: FROM THAT ONE PLACE YOU LIKE

It's like she doesn't even hear you. Bracing yourself, you take a deep breath and stride into her room, delicately placing it right on the book she's reading. She slides it out of the way and keeps on blankly staring at the pages. You're pretty sure that she's not even reading it anymore.

STELSA: PLEASE AT LEAST TELL ME WHAT YOURE DOING  
STELSA: I  
STELSA: I KNOW ITS HARD BUT  
TYZIAS: i can't leave, stelsa

Your matesprit's voice is hollow.

TYZIAS: i wwwwas  
TYZIAS:   
TYZIAS: i could've fucking done sommmmething  
TYZIAS: anything  
TYZIAS: i could've helped people  
TYZIAS: and nowwww i  
TYZIAS:   
TYZIAS: i can't  
TYZIAS: stels i can't fucking do it  
TYZIAS: and even if i could i  
TYZIAS: she'll

Tyzias trails off, the rest going unsaid. The words that died on her lips hang in the ironclad silence between the two of you, with the rest of the unborn truths that have gathered over so many sweeps. She's still hunched over the book, body quivering as she holds back her sobs. Refusing to look you in the eye. You pap Tyzias's shoulder, and she relaxes slightly—although not by much. You'd feel guilty for vacillating (would you really, though?) if it weren't so obvious that Tyzias needs it desperately.

TYZIAS: i've got to find a wwwway to dispute her apprenticeship claimmmm  
TYZIAS: judgmmmment chammmmpions operate in a grey area but caliburn isn't a highblood  
TYZIAS: she can't just fucking ignore the diaspora articles like this  
TYZIAS: there's got to be a few solid precedents i c  
STELSA: ZIZI  
STELSA: YOU OF ALL PEOPLE KNOW THAT  
STELSA:   
STELSA: SHELL GET WHAT SHE WANTS EVENTUALLY  
STELSA: I WANT TO HAVE MORE TIME WITH YOU TOO  
STELSA: BUT THATS NOT HOW THE EMPIRE WORKS WORKS  
STELSA: NO MATTER HOW HARD YOU TRY TO CHANGE IT  
STELSA: IM SORRY

For a few agonizing seconds, there's no response. Just your matesprit's shoulders shaking as she fights back tears. Then Tyzias gets up and wordlessly begins stacking the books into a precarious pile. After a moment, you start helping her.  
        The iron silence grows as you say a wordless, worthless goodbye.

>Be Tagora.

        Your name is Tagora Gorjek, and, against your better judgment, you are worried about Tyzias Entykk.  
        You've never particularly cared for your odious coworker. True, she does good work quickly and consistently, but that's her only positive quality in your ganderbulbs. She moans and groans about everything under both moons, her habit of lacing rebellious sub-sub-subtext into everything she writes could get everyone in the office culled, and her fashion sense is downright unbearable. (Every time you remember that Tyzias wears socks with sandals, you add another fifty caegars to her bill. Oh, there it goes now. Ding. She'll owe you a _massive_ payout for all of her nonsense when she gets deployed.)  
        ...but Tyzias does good work. Almost on par with your own. She's also the only other troll in this building who has as little tolerance for shenanigans as you do. And no matter how close Tyzias may cut it some nights, she is never late.  
        She was supposed to be here three hours ago. You can't stop your mind from wandering to the incident yesternight, when Tegiri and Tyzias were abducted. Tegiri slunk into the office seven minutes after he was due, tail between his legs, and refused to speak of what transpired. You haven't heard a word from Tyzias, either. So, against all logic, you are worried about Tyzias Entykk.  
        You're aimlessly roam the halls, mentally recounting all of the cullable offenses she's committed just over the past six perigees—an activity that is far less cathartic than usual—when the front doors of the building slide apart and reveal your wayward coworker. Your lips part into a sneer, prepared to unleash your rapier wit on Tyzias for her tardiness. The quip vanishes from your mind when your vision spheres fully process Tyzias's appearance.  
        Tyzias is a fashion disaster at the best of times, and at the worst of times you can hardly look at her without sending spears of agony into your thinkpan, but you've never seen her like this before. There's always been a sort of grim determination about her, the will to get what needs to be done _done_ , no matter what. But that's completely vanished from her eyes. She seems broken. Defeated. Her clothes are more rumpled than usual, and even her hair, which is normally at least somewhat stylized, is a squawkbeast's nest. Tyzias shuffles into her room without so much as looking you in the eye, cardboard box under her arm, and aimlessly begins sweeping supplies into it.  
        You approach cautiously, as if dealing with a wild lusus. Something's wrong here. You've always had a sense of when and where a horrible accident is about to happen; you need that kind of edge if you want to beat our your ambulance-chasing competitors. Right now, it feels like you're watching the aftermath of a million-caegar catastrophe.  
        And, for once in your life, that feeling evokes dread rather than joy.  
        You decide to open with a simple barb, a jibe that Tyzias could fire back upon even at her tiredest.  


TAGORA: Why, Tyzias. Are you quite alright? Did frolicking around with that poseur jade tire you out after just one mediocre party? *_________

Nothing. Not even a sigh. She just keeps stuffing her books and office supplies into the box. You stand there for a few moments, at a loss for words—this is the first time that's happened in recent memory. Wait, didn't you... when Galekh... no, no. You're thinking of...  
        Tyzias saves you from your crisis of memory by retrieving a file and a USB from out of nowhere, then tapping the box. The cardboard container and all of its contents disappear. You gawk, staring at the casual display of a sylladex. How- they're not even supposed to be- you sputter. Tyzias doesn't even take amusement from that. She just slides the folder and USB across her desk without so much as the slightest twitch of schadenfreude on her broken expression.

TYZIAS: here  
TAGORA: What are you  
TYZIAS: i'mmmm leaving  
TYZIAS: this is all the wwwwork i owwwwe you  
TAGORA:  
TAGORA: Why. *_________  
TYZIAS: getting deployed

She shrugs, a movement reminescent of the dying gasp of a lusus. And without another word, Tyzias walks out.  
        Maybe if this was another universe, one where everyone is just a little happier, you would've asked questions. Said goodbye. Wished her luck. Perhaps you would've even given her a hug. But it isn't. And so you're left staring at an empty office, where someone you might've called a friend somewhen and somewhere else will never return.

>Be Daraya.

        Your name is Daraya Jonjet, and even though you have no idea what’s happening, you are worried about Tyzias Entykk. Well, you would be, if you gave enough of a shit. Which you absolutely don’t.  
        ...Except you do. A bit. Okay, a lot. Because Tyzias is _cool_. Sure, she might be a total dweeb 80% of the time, and is still pretty dweeby for the other 20%, but, well, she gets it. Gets how fucked up everything is. Gets how angry you are, because despite how chill she seems you know that she is deeply pissed. And gets how dumb it is to say that she gets it (at least after your first meeting, but you don’t remember it that well; probably due to the jitters you got after your close encounter of the clown kind).  
        So when Tyzias texted you out of the blue, saying to meet her at the tower ASAP, you got a little concerned. Normally, it takes a solid half-hour of bullshitting about rustpunk grunge bands and dunking on each other’s lameness before she gets down to business and sets up a meeting. It’s not just fooling around, though. According to Tyzias, if you bore a eviscerperative with meaningless chatter for long enough, they’ll stop paying attention to your logs. You’re not even sure if you’re being monitored, but hey. Better safe than sorry, you guess.  
        Look, your point is that it’s weird for Tyzias to just order you to the tower with no further discussion. You probably wouldn’t have gone if she hadn’t provided some solid proof that it was really her—when you asked for a password to make sure, she said that there isn’t one through memes, which is the truth. It’s surprisingly good security.  
        So now you’re climbing up the stupid ladder to the decidedly not-stupid tower. You can Tyzias lounging against a pile of junk, looking blankly at a spot on the balcony. She has a weird tendency to stare holes into that one place on the floor. But you can’t really blame her; this tower evokes weird feelings in both of you. Like it’s a second home, full of nostalgia, even though you only started meeting here a few perigees ago.  
        Ugh, you’re starting to think in poetry again. Stupid Lanque. Stupid Bronya making you all listen to Lanque’s bullshit overwrought poetry. Stupid Reader actually encouraging... Wait, fuck. There isn’t a troll named Reader in the caverns. What’s with your head today?  
        You climb onto the platform. Tyzias doesn’t even look at you.

DARAYA: ▲sup  
TYZIAS: i'mmmm leaving

The cold, matter-of-fact way that Tyzias says it catches you off guard. Normally, her voice is lively. Filled with snark and long-suffering fondness. But now it's just... bitter. Dead. She refuses to look you in the eye as your jaw practically unhinges in shock.

DARAYA: ▼what  
TYZIAS: getting deployed  
TYZIAS: tldr sommmme higher-up bonebulge thinks i have talent and is spacenapping mmmme early  


There's a long stretch of silence while the sheer mass of your anger fights against your disbelief.

DARAYA: ▲that▼  
DARAYA: ▲▲they can't just▼▼  
TYZIAS: they can and they did  
TYZIAS: i'll be in orbit in a few hours  
DARAYA: ▼▼▼and you aren't going to fucking fight back▲▲▲

She flinches, and turns even further away. You would feel sorry if your emotions weren't busy boiling over into pure rage.

DARAYA: ▲▲▲i thought you actually wanted to change things▼▼▼  
DARAYA: ▼▼▼that you were going to tear down this whole rotten planet piece by piece and replace it with something better▲▲▲  
DARAYA: ▼▼▼not just roll over and let the empire do whatever it wants with you as soon as it decides it needs a tool▲▲▲  
TYZIAS: it's mmmmore commmmplicated t  
DARAYA: ▼▼▼▼LIKE HELL IT IS▲▲▲▲  
DARAYA: ▼you could've▲  
DARAYA: ▼we could've▼

Your shoulders heave with anger and some other emotion you'd really like to not examine too closely, fangs bared as you snarl. You ignore the tears running down your cheeks. There's another long silence, the kind of void that's only made after shattering something precious. With great effort, Tyzias turns to look you in the eyes.

TYZIAS: you still can

She shuffles around in... somewhere, and pulls out two books, shoving them into your arms. They're old, bound with white lusus leather. Confusion cuts through your wrath for just long enough for you to notice the iron amulet, shaped like a pair of shackles, hanging out of one of the tomes. Your breath catches.

TYZIAS: i'mmmm going to die out there, raya  
TYZIAS: i don't stand a fucking chance  
TYZIAS: and if i try to resist, caliburn's either gonna cull mmmme or drag mmmme wwwwith her kicking and screammmming anywwwways  
TYZIAS: i'mmmm terrified  
TYZIAS: but  
TYZIAS: i can't let it end here  
TYZIAS: there's gotta be hope  
TYZIAS: there's gotta be sommmmething for the next wwwwiggler that's angry at the wwwworld, that feels helpless and scared, like they're commmmmpletely fucking alone wwwwith no one they can trust to even talk about howwww fucked everything is  
TYZIAS: they need to find these  
TYZIAS: and they need to keep fighting  
TYZIAS: i

She looks away again, glasses shining. You deflate, all of your anger draining away.

TYZIAS: i'mmmm sorry that i couldn't do mmmmore

Without another word, Tyzias brushes past you and shuffles towards the ladder.

DARAYA: ▼wait

Tyzias stops for just long enough for you to dig the treasure you found deep in the jade caverns out of your backpack. You hand it to her, staring at the floor.

DARAYA: ▲i know you think you're doomed or whatever, but▼  
DARAYA: ▲here▼  
DARAYA: ▲this might help or something, idk▼  
DARAYA: ▲don't fucking die out there, or when i get cloistered i'm going to break out just to kick the shit out of your corpse▼

She peeks beneath the teal cloth, and it's like the weight on her shoulders doubles. In retrospect, maybe giving Tyzias the symbol of one of her personal heroes might not have been the best idea when she feels like she's about the betray all of her principles. You open your mouth to apologize, to say goodbye, but she's already sliding down the ladder into the night, and the words die on your lips. 

>Be someone else.

        You are now someone else, and despite being separated across a vast expanse of space, time, and canonicity, you are very worried about Tyzias Entykk.  
        You're fairly certain Tyzias (this Tyzias, at least) doesn't remember you. You're entirely certain, actually, considering the words that you've been reading on this meticulously-formatted page. Doc doesn't particularly like you taking a break from your "quest for true understanding of your own unique position in relation to the various canons of this narrative," but fuck that guy. You want to see how your friends are doing. And as far as you can tell, reading fanfiction is the only way you can do that.  
        It's not perfect, not by a long shot. But even though the truth value of these works are close to zero, their relevance and essentiality can be quite high. Truth is relative anyways, at least to someone who's lived through as many timelines as you have. Since you're reading about yourself reading this fanfiction, you have a feeling that the truth value of _Starbound Blues: A Hiveswap Story_ is abnormally high for a fanwork, at least for you. (God, you sound like Rose. You're not sure if this is a good or bad thing.)  
        Which means that you have a job to do. You put on Mallek's elite gaming headphones and start listening to END OF FRIENDVANGELION. It helps you get into the zone. If the timeline presented in this text is true for you in this river, you might be able to change it. Hell, if this paragraph is going where you think it's going, you're going to _have_ to change it to prevent a metatextual breakdown, and you don't even want to think about what that could mean if you fail.  
        Spending time around the Felt has given you a greater understanding of your own abilities. Homestuck being a weird narrative ouroboros is a factor too, but talking with guys with freaky time powers helped you understand your own freaky time powers a lot more. Your river is more of a tributary of a greater one, which is, in of itself, a branch of the alpha timeline. Most waters that flow this far from the alpha timeline are stagnant. Dead. But your presence, regardless of this iteration of you's own truth value in comparison to the alpha you, excites those— okay, enough of the meta rambling. Man, Dirk's pretentious blathering is really starting to influence how you think. Stupid anime bastard with his stupid anime shades who thinks his stupid plans... right, right. Back on track.  
        Taking a deep breath full of consciousness, you dive into your river, swimming towards Tyzias. Images flash in your mind, of deep sadness, of unsaid goodbyes, of broken friendships, of incredible despair. They pierce through your heart, slowing you down. You begin to sink.  
        But you can't. Not yet. Not while Tyzias is still on the brink of giving up. You grit your teeth, summoning memories of that one night you both slept beneath the stars, every time you've seen her battle through her exhaustion to keep fighting. Piece by piece, the lead around your heart flakes away, and kick by mental kick, you once again ascend. Doc's noticed you now, though. The current is fierce, wild, coursing with green omniscience. He doesn't want you to slip from his grasp. You nearly drown in his cold grip, and your vision crackles with emerald lightning as Doc drags you back to his reality.  
        Doc Scratch is unbelievably powerful. You can't defeat him, not when he knows every move you'll make in advance. You keep fighting, flailing, even when deep down you know it's— ugh, you hate it when that asshole decides to narrate directly into your head. What a pretentious fuckwad. And that's his mistake: now it's not only your desire to save Tyzias that's propelling you forward. Pettiness is a potent force; and it's just enough for you to find the energy to see a way out.  
        You have no idea who this new troll who's taken it upon herself to torment Tyzias really is. She's definitely not the author's OC, considering the tags. Probably belongs to this Vast Error thing. You'd investigate further, but you can barely get away with going onto Ao3 as it is. You do know one thing for sure, though: she is 100% a Voidbound (heh, jokes). Secily's internal monologue makes it painfully obvious. And the Doc admitted himself that Void players have a tendency to punch holes into his omniscience. Using every ounce of your free will, you swim towards Secily, clinging to her confused timeline. Behind you, Doc blindly fumbles for your shadow, fruitlessly searching for any trace of your awareness.  
        While you're curious as to what in the actual fuck is going on with Secily's existence, you've got other business to attend to before Doc does that stupid thing where he Sherlocks out what's going on inside of his blind spots and finds you anyways. You swim along Secily's experiences until they meet with Tyzias's, then duck into her river. If you had a nose, it would be bleeding from the psychic effort, but due to your vague nature as both a Homestuck-adjacent character and as the designated self-insert you're not sure you actually do. Regardless, you catch up to Tyzias's relative present, and wrap your arms around her mind, offering a warm embrace. Kindness. Hope. Kinship. You stretch your abilities to their limit, flooding your soul with the deep red power of _connection_ , and using your last iota of mental strength... you link her river to your own, to the potential of what could've been if you found a way to stay.  
        And she

>Tyzias: Remember

Tyzias is too busy choking on her tears for you to be her right now. But you can certainly still help. You hug your friend through the river, allowing the flood of memories to wash over you. The night beneath the stars, where you dreamed of a better future. Those blissful domestic perigees that you spent with her and Stelsa, working hard to prove yourself. All the small moments lost between the cracks of canon, existing in the minds of thousands, swirling around and through both of you, soothing you in their embrace.  
        You say that you love her. You say that everything she needs is within her. You say that she is stronger than she knows. And you say she isn't alone.  
        And you tell her a story. A memory. Where everything, just for a single, crystallized moment, is perfect.  
        That story is hers. Not mine, or yours, or anyone's. It's Tyzias's.  
        Before you fade away, before you're pulled out of the perfect dream that isn't quite a dream or quite reality or quite canon or quite noncanon but is definitely relevant and essential to everything she is... you tell her to remember. No matter what. Just as she always has. And to never, ever give up.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


>Be Tyzias.

The stars above shine with familiar light as you stand in the empty field just outside Thrashthrust. Wind brushes through the void that yawns like a chasm between you and your peers, its gentle whisper amplified to a howl in your desolated, fatigued heart. A familiar note is produced. It's the one desolation plays to keep its instrument in tune.  
        These are your last minutes on your home planet, and like every moment of every night before it, something feels missing from your life. Someone, rather. The identity presently eluding you is only the latest mystery penned by an unseen author, one not written just to engender a feeling of curiosity, but of resolve. Their silken flourishes of fundamental ink are less of that of a common novelist than a philosopher, engaging in a dialectic with themself. Their metaphors are that of existence itself. It is a mystery dispersing altogether, like the moon's faint reflection, with even one pebble of inquiry dropped in its black well. It is the most diabolical riddle of all.  
        Something happened to one of your dearest friends, something that erased them from one weave of words and knit them into another. You'll be damned if you don't find out what happened to them, and thrice condemned if you don't bring them back.And now, you have once again found your determination to do it. With happy memories otherwise lost sieved from the rivers of time blowing a verdant wind at your back, you step into the shuttle that somehow lands without following the wind, nor disturbing it. There's no turning back now.  
        You have a feeling it's going to be a long trip.

END OF ACT I.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hoooo boy. It's been a few months. Sorry that this took so long.
> 
> I have a Twitter now! That has a reasonable amount of clout? I primarily just shitpost about Homestuck with the occasional insightful comment there, and I also post updates to the fic. Check it out. https://twitter.com/ArtemisRubey
> 
> I also featured on an episode of the Perfectly Generic Podcast with Secily's creator Kate Mitchell about the Ultimate Self. I said some stupid things, but I said some cool things too. https://perfectlygenericpodcast.com/updates/episodes/50
> 
> This is the end of the first act of Starbound Blues, and the next proper one might be a bit long in the coming. I will post an Intermission at some point detailing some of the things Tyzias saw during her connection with MSPAR, but I've gotta take a break to focus on other projects.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
